XIX. A WARNING 237
XX. NORA JAMISON EXPLAINS 245
XXI. THE RAINBOW BRIDGE 256

THE RED CROSS GIRLS WITH PERSHING TO VICTORY

CHAPTER I

_With The American Army in France_

IT was a bright winter day near the middle of November, the ground hard
with frost and light flurries of snow in the air.

Over the sloping French countryside thousands of brown tents arose like
innumerable, giant anthills, while curling above certain portions of the
camp were long columns of smoke. American soldiers were walking about in
a leisurely fashion, or standing in groups talking. Some of them were
engaged in cleaning their guns or other military accoutrements, a number
were investigating their kits.

Near one of the camp fires a private was singing to the accompaniment of
a guitar and a banjo played by two other soldiers, with a fairly large
crowd surrounding them. "Johnny get your gun, we've the Hun on the run."

Over the entire American camp there was an atmosphere of relaxation, of
cheerfulness, of duty accomplished. The eleventh of November having
passed, with the armistice signed, the American soldiers in France were
now awaiting orders either to return home to the United States or else
to march toward the Rhine. In this particular neighborhood of
Chateau-Thierry no word had yet been received as to what units were to
form a part of the American Army of Occupation, only the information
that the units were to be chosen with regard to their military
accomplishments since their arrival in France.

Therefore the heroes of Chateau-Thierry and of Belleau Woods, of St.
Mihiel and the Argonne Forest were ready to accept whatever fate sent,
"Home," or "The Watch on the Rhine."

Finally ending his song the singer stood up; he was wearing the uniform
of the United States Marines.

"I say don't stop singing, Navara. What's a fellow to do these days
without your music, when we have no longer the noise of the cannon or
the shrieking of guns overhead as a substitute?" one of the group of
soldiers exclaimed. "The quiet has come so suddenly it is almost as hard
to grow accustomed to it, as it once was to the infernal racket."

"Oh, Navara is expecting visitors, feminine visitors. Some people have
all the luck!" Corporal Donald Hackett protested, placing his banjo in
its case and also rising. He spoke with a slight southern drawl and was
a tall, fair young fellow with